


here's to me hoping

by kireteiru



Series: SMUT [13]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canonical Character Death, Come Inflation, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Gangbang, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Sex Positions, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Semi-Public Sex, Sex Pollen, Sex then Angst then Happy, Spitroasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kireteiru/pseuds/kireteiru
Summary: The Separatists started getting desperate towards the end of the war, throwing countless plans at the wall to see what would stick.Here is the story of one that stuck - although not in the way they intended - and what came after.
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion & Obi-Wan Kenobi, 212th Attack Battalion/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Boil/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Crys/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Other(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Trapper, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Waxer
Series: SMUT [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1372522
Comments: 3
Kudos: 115





	1. love me harder

It was getting hard to focus.

The war had begun its descent toward the inevitable end, and the Separatists were growing desperate - to stop it, to stave it off, to save themselves, he didn't know. But they had begun _acting_ on that desperation, deploying new weapons against the Republic, some that were terrifyingly efficient, some that backfired on their wielders and harmed the Separatist armies, and some which did nothing at all.

Or _seemed_ to do nothing at the outset.

Obi-Wan had tried his best to avoid breathing in any fumes from the gas bomb lobbed his way by the Separatists, sweeping the cloud away with the Force, but more bombs had followed, and more droids, forcing him to keep fighting despite the faint purple haze now suffusing the battlefield. Yet whatever the gas was, it hadn't negatively affected him at all during the fight - if anything, it had _sharpened_ his senses, given him greater focus and control over the Force, let him respond faster and hit harder, shattering entire platoons of droids in seconds.

But now that the battle was _over_ , most of the effects were fading fast.

 _Most_ of them.

Obi-Wan still felt hot and hypersensitive; his robes, normally comfortable and familiar, felt like sandpaper when the cloth shifted - where they weren't slick and clammy with sweat against his almost blazing skin. Every twitch in the Force was as loud as a shout in his ears, dragging his attention away from his other senses as he focused what little awareness he still had on his shields to avoid being overwhelmed by the life and thoughts and emotions of everyone around him-

“General Kenobi, sir?”

Obi-Wan blinked and slowly, almost painfully, dragged his eyes up from the deck to focus on Cody’s face. The clone - and several of his fellows, including Boil, Waxer, and Longshot - looked deeply concerned. “Are you alright, sir? We called your name six times.”

“I’m fine,” the Jedi managed, wincing at the hint of a slur in his normally so measured voice and knowing that they didn't believe him for a second. Their frowns deepened, their Force presences revealing they were focusing on him even more intently, trying to parse out what was wrong - pointless, since Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure of that himself. “I just… need to lie down.”

Cody eyed him for a moment longer, concern rolling off of him in waves that battered at the Jedi’s already fragile shields. “Sir, wouldn't you rather go to Medical?”

That made Obi-Wan focus a little more. He had no wish to burden their already-taxed medical suite so soon after such a major battle. “I’m quite certain.”

Cody frowned deeper still, but nodded. “Gearshift, Longshot, make sure General Kenobi reaches his quarters safely.”

The Jedi made to protest, but the two clones had already fallen in next to him, making him sigh instead. “Very well. I trust you can handle things from here, Commander?”

“Of course, sir.”

His legs felt like they weighed a ton as he stumbled towards his quarters, relying increasingly on Gearshift and Longshot’s support as they steered him through the halls of the _Negotiator_. Despite the climate control and the bitter cold of deep space, he still felt like he was in the middle of a rainforest, hot and damp and humid, and it became harder and harder to focus on anything outside of the rising heat of his body.

The two clones radiated increasing concern the longer they walked, enough to spill over the toughest shields he could muster in - whatever state _this_ was - and they left only with the greatest reluctance when they finally delivered him to his quarters. Once they had gone and the door shut behind them, it took the utmost effort to stop from collapsing face down onto the deck and staying there until the troopers came to check on him as they no doubt would - _until they came to accept the invitation such a sight presented, upper body slumped to the ground but knees braced, hips raised at just the right angle to take them inside-_

He shook his head as if to physically rid himself of that thought and almost fell when he misjudged his balance. But he used the shift in his weight to send himself stumbling forward toward the sonic in the corner, hands shaking and fumbling for the clasps and ties of his robes like he hadn't since he was a child still learning to dress himself.

The cool air of his quarters was a balm against his heated skin, and he let out a soft groan at the featherlight draft, leaving his robes where they fell when they slipped off. He almost brained himself on his desk stumbling out of his trousers, but he caught himself with the Force and managed to steer himself into the sonic, where it took him almost ten minutes to figure out how to turn the damned thing on despite the button being right in front of his eyes the whole time.

His whole body shuddered with pleasure and his moan echoed around the sonic chamber when it turned on; normally he didn't really notice the soundwaves or the water it used, too normal for him to pay them any mind, but now with all his senses on overdrive, even that was too much.

His hand was on his cock before he even realized he was hard, and _Force_ , what had the Separatists dosed him with that he didn't notice he was fit to burst until he was already on the edge?!

The thought was gone almost as fast as it had come, but fortunately it returned together with his mind after his whiteout orgasm. Obi-Wan remained slumped against the wall of the sonic for several minutes as it washed away all the evidence, skin shivering with oversensitivity, before he finally staggered out.

Maybe he _did_ need to go to Medical.

Or maybe he could just sleep it off. Helix was already dealing with wounded troopers; he didn’t need to add a Jedi with unknown apparent aphrodisiacs in his system to the list.

Yes, yes, that was better. No need to bother the others with this; he was sure he would be fine in a few hours once… whatever this was… worked its way out of his system.

* * *

A few hours later, Obi-Wan was decidedly _not_ fine. He had made it to his bunk, but what little sleep he had managed to get had been intermittent at best, and full of dreams that left him hot and wanting, panting after phantom hands and cocks that vanished the moment he opened his eyes.

Someone knocked at his door, but by the time he managed to process that, Cody was already stepping into his quarters, concern overtaking everything else when he saw the state of his general, twisted in his sweaty sheets with the evidence of at least two additional orgasms coating his stomach. “ _Sir?!_ ”

“I believe you may have been right about Medical, Commander,” Obi-Wan barely managed to gasp out, even as the clone strode over to the bunk and successfully untangled the Jedi before he could twist again and strangle himself with his bedsheets. Even the slightest brush of Cody’s fingers against his skin left trails of fire where they met, and his whole body bucked at the chance graze of a nipple, a moan leaving his throat sounding like it came up from his toes.

The Jedi felt the bolt of _hunger_ that raced through the other man at the sight of him - and also Helix at the door, though both men kept themselves professional about his nudity and obvious out-of-control arousal. If Cody signaled the medic to join him, Obi-Wan didn’t see it, but Helix was suddenly at his bedside, snapping on gloves and taking his vitals, a task made more difficult than it needed to be by the Jedi’s shuddering and quivering and writhing at even the clinical touch. Without a word, Cody climbed onto the bed and straddled Obi-Wan’s thighs to pin his legs to the mattress, catching both his wrists in one hand and spreading the other on his chest to keep him flat on his back and let Helix work.

_Strong enough to hold him still, make him just take it; an aura of command to get even him to obey, familiarity with subduing opponents to know exactly how to keep him down without harm. Medical training to know exactly how to manipulate his body for the maximum amount of pleasure - or just enough to keep him on the edge without tipping over…_

Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back as he came again, spilling hard over his stomach and possibly Cody’s blacks as well. The aftershocks left him weak and shivery, every touch a starburst of sensation in already frayed nerves.

“Are you back with us, sir?”

“For the moment, Helix,” he managed. It was true; his mind was clear as it had been the last three times he had come, but it wouldn’t last.

“I’m gonna need a blood sample to try and find out what this is,” said the medic, turning his wrist in Cody’s grip to get better access to the crook of his arm, “but I can already tell your heart’s working too hard - gonna give out at this rate.”

“Then… what do you... recommend?” His mind was already starting to slip, arousal ratcheting back up.

“Honestly, sir? Either come to Medical for sedation, or find someone to fuck you.” Helix took the blood sample from his arm, then pulled out a cotton ball and took a swab of fresh cum as well, dropping it into a spare vial and sealing it up before stripping off his gloves. “Maybe even several someone’s; whatever this is has lasted this long already with no obvious signs of slowing down, and even enhanced, we clones are still only human.”

“Noted,” Obi-Wan managed.

It seemed like between one blink and the next, Helix gathered up his equipment and left, leaving only Cody still straddling him, looking down on him with hunger veiled by concern, dark eyes taking every inch of him in. “Sir,” he said, “what do you want to do?”

 _Hands holding him down, too many to belong to one person, stroking and groping and squeezing every inch of flesh. Some hands bracing his hips and spreading his cheeks, others cradling his head and neck, repositioning him at will, all to help him better take the cocks of the_ vod’e _how they liked, sharing him as they did everything-_

Cody’s eyes were almost black with lust when he blinked again. He must have been projecting quite loudly and clearly through the Force for the clone to have picked up on it. “Sir,” he said, firmer this time, deeper, hot enough to make Obi-Wan moan softly, mouth watering, “Is that what you want? Once we leave this room, there’s no going back.”

The Jedi was torn. The Order preached avoiding attachment to prevent Jedi falling to the dark side (even after so many years, he still heard Master Yoda’s voice in his ears; _Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate… leads to suffering._ ), but he _had_ grown attached to the men under his command, who looked up to him with such faith and trust, who cared for him so deeply and believed that even in the direst circumstances he could pull out a miracle that would see them all through. He hated - _disliked_ sending them out to fight, to die simply because they were clones bred for war, because the lives of Republic citizens were judged to be worth more because they weren't born in a tube. He’d tried to keep a careful distance once he realized he felt affection for them, tried to keep them from worming their way into his heart…

But he wasn't _made of stone_ , Force damn it! He wasn’t Master Yoda, detached from the world and everyone in it after almost _nine hundred years_ of watching people _die_ around him! The 212th were _his_ soldiers - every time one of them died, it felt like a part of him died with them - and even if he had to let them go when the war was done, return to the temple and finish training Anakin (and hopefully prod him into revealing what was going on with his not-so-secret relationship with Senator Amidala), he - he could have this. He could have this _one day_ to love them the way he sorely wanted and carry it inside him until he became one with the Force.

“I’m going to need help getting to the barracks, Cody,” he rasped out, “I don’t think my legs will hold me.”

It took the clone all of three seconds to have Obi-Wan in his arms and be halfway down the hall to the main barracks. If they encountered any of the _vod’e_ in the halls, the Jedi didn't notice, too busy pulling down the neck of his commander’s blacks to suck kisses into the skin there, but they must have because he felt Cody’s throat vibrate with speech under his lips, even if he didn’t actually understand the words that were said. He barked an order when they arrived, but Obi-Wan didn't understand that one either, only that a few minutes after it was given, Cody tried to set him down. The Jedi decided he was having none of that and pulled the clone down on top of him - into a pile of pillows and blankets?

The _vod’e_ chuckled around them, each with their own variation of the same hungry eyes. They’d all stripped their bunks on their commander’s orders and formed a nest in the rec room of the main barracks, sheets draped in layers over mattresses and piles of pillows, with more pillows on top for more maneuverability.

Cody let out a quiet laugh of his own and leaned down to kiss him - more bitey than Obi-Wan had expected, but his brain was working at a less than optimal level; he didn’t realize he’d been pinned down until he tried and failed to yank his hands free to bury them in the clone’s regulation haircut. Cody laughed at that too, then sat up. “Waxer, Crys, I know _one_ of you has lube around here somewhere - bring all of it. The General says he wants all of us, and what he wants he’ll _get_.”

There was rustling and rattling nearby as they obeyed, but Obi-Wan’s limited attention was still focused on Cody as the trooper leaned back down over him, fisting a hand in his hair and using it to tilt his head back to expose his throat. Now it was the other man’s turn to mark him up, in the process revealing that Trapper and Blaze were the ones holding his arms fast. He could have thrown them off, of course; his focus was shot for the most part, but the Force came easy to his mind - but why would he do that when this was exactly what he wanted?

“You know what a safeword is, sir?” Cody said against his throat in between sucking kisses of his own, though he paused long enough to give Obi-Wan time to answer.

“Yes.”

But that made him pause again, longer this time, the other _vod’e_ stilling as well, something tense but as yet undefined radiating into the Force. “...Do we want to know _why_ you know what a safeword is?”

“...Probably not.”

“Hm.”

Obi-Wan yelped when Cody bit him, precise and sure, hard enough to break skin and deep enough to leave a mark that would probably scar, but not enough to affect the use of the arm or shoulder. The clone looked almost feral when he pulled back, licking the blood from his lips. “Your safeword is _two-twelfth_ ,” he said, mouth still painted red, “Can you remember that, or do you need something shorter?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, panting as Trapper started feeling up his hands, stroking along strong but fine-boned and _sensitive_ fingers.

“Say it then. Safeword, General.”

Despite the respectful title, it was unmistakably an order, the Force conveying Cody’s demand, and the Jedi obeyed. “ _Two-twelfth!_ ” he gasped out.

Trapper and Blaze released him before he’d even finished speaking, letting go of his arms and leaning back to give him space, even as Cody pushed off of him, moving back so that not even a centimeter of their skin was touching. The rest of the battalion stepped back as well, distinctly standing down, easing off and suppressing the lust that had begun to saturate the air.

Obi-Wan _growled_ at them, and the clones all laughed, though Cody broke off with an _oof_ when the Jedi used the Force to shove him forward, spreading his legs to receive the commander and jerking his arms down to wrap around the other’s shoulders and hold him close. The clone let out a soft breath of a laugh but obliged, turning his head to take the Jedi’s mouth.

Waxer and Crys returned with their stashes of lube, and a number of others pressed close as well, grabbing the Jedi’s legs and pulling them wide, both to free Cody and to give them access to open him up. Other hands grabbed his arms again, pinned him back down, while still more started doing as he’d imagined, squeezing and groping every inch of skin, adding hot mouths and wet tongues where they could reach.

His hips were lifted, pillows shoved under to support the angle, and his cheeks were pulled apart so slick fingers could prod at his hole. By some miracle, he managed to wrestle his body into listening to him, relaxing under the insistent pressure - but no one was touching his _kriffing_ _cock_ , damn it-!

As if some of the clones had picked up on that thought (maybe he was projecting again?), a hand curled tight around the base, staving off even the hope of an orgasm to take the edge off, before two mouths (at least two) pressed against the sensitive skin of his shaft, making him shudder and groan, which in turn earned pleased noises from the clones.

They continued teasing him long past the end of his patience for preparation; whoever was working him open seemed well and truly determined to get their entire fist in him before a damned dick. The sliver of his mind still capable of logical thought was grateful for it, though; it would be far easier, less painful to take all the _vod’e_ if they didn’t have to worry about chafing or tearing from half-assed lubing and stretching - practical considerations the rest of him couldn’t be arsed to care about.

 _Finally_ , when his skin had been thoroughly marked and after he’d been taken to the edge and made to back off at _least_ half a dozen times, the hands preparing him pulled away, and Cody leaned over him again. Obi-Wan’s arms were still pinned, so he couldn’t pull his commander into an embrace, but he _could_ tilt his head up, lips parted on a pleading whine.

Cody obliged him - almost always did, almost always would. The kiss was not gentle, not that he’d thought it would be, but neither was it rough enough to draw blood, though he could still taste a faint iron tang left behind from the earlier bite. Obi-Wan memorized how the other man kissed as much as he could, eager to learn the differences between all the clones who fought by his side.

Even as strung out as he was on whatever drug the Separatists had dosed him with, there was no missing the blunt press of a cock at his hole. He broke the kiss to pant hard over Cody’s lips, tilting their foreheads together to continue the kiss another way. “In, _in_ \- Cody, _please_ -!”

“Yes sir,” Cody murmured, and hitched his hips forward just enough for the head to pop through. Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back at the stretch, his body arching into a dozen hands, but Cody didn’t stop there, working himself in until he was fully seated.

The Jedi lost his bid to keep his head up, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled, but that just let him see all the others watching him, eyes dark with lust and riveted on every shiver and writhe. Some of them were jerking off, but not with the intent to come - more to keep from getting restless, from taking more than they thought Obi-Wan could handle.

But then his thoughts splintered apart - Cody pulled back so only the head remained inside, but then drove back in with a hard ( _perfect_ ) thrust that forced all the breath from his lungs in a choked shout. And he didn't stop at just the one; he kept going, murmuring to the others to get the Jedi’s legs moved onto his shoulders for a better angle, but that didn't stop the _vod’e_ from feeling him up, finding the sensitive skin of his ankles, the backs of his knees, his inner thighs. _This_ angle sent lightning bolts of pleasure through him, fraying his control even further. He was soon lost in the pleasure, _much_ better than when he’d got off in the sonic; through the Force, he could _feel_ what even just the _sounds_ of sex were doing to Cody and the others, the hungry lust surging like the tide with every throaty moan, every wet slap, every writhe and gasp.

 _Finally_ , the whoreson who’d been playing cockring released him, and Obi-Wan didn’t so much _fall over the edge_ as _get bodily thrown off it_ , his whole body seizing and mind shorting out with utter bliss.

When he drifted back down, he found that Cody had already finished; he could feel the other man softening inside him, but there was no time to either relish the other man’s pleasure or mourn that he’d missed it. Even though he had _just_ come, his body was already heating up again; his cock had softened for barely a second, his heartbeat slowing only fractionally in his chest.

Cody noticed - always did, always would - and briefly leaned in to press their foreheads together in another Keldabe kiss before pulling out and away, letting another take his place.

Waxer and Crys were right behind him, and since it was their stash they all were using, Obi-Wan felt that was more than fair, responding eagerly to hungry kisses from both of them. Waxer settled between his legs, lifting one onto a shoulder and entering him with a practiced roll of his hips, but Crys approached with a little more hesitance, cock hard but face and Force presence nervous.

That lasted only long enough for the Jedi to roll up onto an elbow, pull him close, and swallow him down.

Obi-Wan couldn't help a slight smirk when he heard Crys curse above him, alongside several others. It had been a while since he had fucked another man - since before Mandalore and Satine - and his mind was still clouded by the Separatist drugs, but it wasn't enough for him to forget how to give a blowjob. He traced veins with his tongue and sucked as he worked his mouth down along the length of the clone’s cock, pausing only briefly to give Waxer a nudge when he realized the other man had stopped to watch.

Crys swore the whole way through, some of his language making the other _vod’e_ laugh, though _with_ him or _at_ him was up for debate. He tried to avoid driving too hard into the Jedi’s throat and mostly succeeded, though his attempts at threading his fingers through the other man’s hair to get a grip on him made Obi-Wan regret cutting it at the start of the war; he’d done it for practical reasons the _vod’e_ would appreciate some other time, but right now it was causing them more than a little frustration, unable to get a firm grip and guide his head.

Obi-Wan didn't leave Waxer out either, tightening around him as best he could and moving to meet him as the clone ground into him, his thrusts shorter and harder than Cody’s but still their own kind of delicious friction. He could feel Waxer kissing the inside of his leg where he could reach, though if that was because his mouth was unavailable or because Waxer had a thing for his legs was anyone’s guess. He’d noticed they all had a habit of staring when he engaged in his usual battlefield acrobatics, so perhaps it was a little of both.

Whether by accident or design, both clones came at the same time, and their combined pleasure rippling through the Force dragged Obi-Wan with them, moaning around Crys’s cock and earning a few near-choking thrusts. The moment Crys pulled back, someone passed him a hydration pack, which the clone immediately offered to the Jedi, holding it steady so he could both rinse the taste of cum from his mouth and replace the fluids he was sweating out. When it was empty, he leaned back and murmured, “You all are too good to me.”

Trapper made a disparaging noise, turning the Jedi the rest of the way onto his side and straddling one of his legs while lifting the other over his shoulder, sheathing his cock inside the Jedi in one hard drive; he was loose enough already that he didn’t feel anything more than a faint ache from the pounding the clones were giving him - aside from the drag of Trapper’s balls over the hypersensitive skin of his inner thigh.

Blaze laid down next to Obi-Wan and took both their cocks in hand. “ _Hardly_ , sir,” he said dryly, starting to stroke, slicking them both with the Jedi’s cum, “You’re the one who’s too good to us.”

“I - _ah!_ \- _disagree_ , Blaze,” Obi-Wan gasped, one hand lacing together with the clone’s on their cocks, letting Trapper’s thrusts rock him into their combined grip, while the other hand scrabbled for purchase, leaving red marks of possession on the clone’s skin. “I have done little enough to deserve-”

“ _None of that now_.”

Obi-Wan again regretted cutting his hair yet again when Boil fisted a hand in the short strands, pulling his head back for a firm, upside-down kiss, delving deep into his mouth and almost _devouring_ him. He finally pulled back when their lungs started to burn and panted out, “ _None_ of that, sir. We know how we’re viewed by the rest of the Republic. Identical, expendable, replaceable - Kamino can turn out a million more exactly like us the moment the Republic gives the word. But you and the other Jedi treat us like we’re people, like we matter as _individuals_ , even though we’re clones. You deserve the world.”

There were murmurs of assent from all around, and Boil pressed close to grind his hard cock into the small of Obi-Wan’s back. “Whatever you need, sir,” he said, sucking kisses along the back and sides of his neck, “Whatever is in our power to give - it’s yours.”

Being the focus of so much devotion - it was too much. Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back as he came again, less than five minutes after his last orgasm. It was starting to hurt - more than _starting_ , it _did_ hurt, but with the Separatists’ sex drugs still in his system, there was nothing else for it. When he came back down again, he whispered, “Just - just fuck me for now, and we can work out the rest later.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

* * *

Cody called a temporary halt when Obi-Wan started passing out between rounds, everyone stepping back from sex in favor of those who had something of a caretaking kink - which, when it came to their Jedi, was pretty much all of them. Someone hauled water over from the head, and two of the clones held Obi-Wan upright while some of their fellows cleaned him up with wet washcloths, wiping away grimy sweat and drying cum. Others held hydration packs to his lips, while still others fed him some of the tasteless mush High Command deemed _food_ \- which they soon discovered was the only thing he could keep down in his drugged state; everything else was too rich, too heavy, and soon made a reappearance, which necessitated another sponge bath.

Someone still called Helix, though, and the medic arrived with nutrient shots and a container of bacta. Obi-Wan had been bundled up in blankets by the clones, who sat everywhere in various degrees of nudity, talking quietly and taking turns just _holding_ their Jedi. Their voices provided a soothing white noise that let him slip into a half-sleep half-meditation, which was about as close to real rest as he was likely to get with the drugs _still_ in his system.

Then the door to the rec room hissed open. Footsteps approached, a case was set down, and disposable gloves were snapped on.

Without opening his eyes, Obi-Wan said, “That sound is going to give me a complex, Helix.”

“Oh?” _Snap_. “You mean it hasn’t already?” _Snap, snap._ “With how you avoid Medical, I’m inclined to think otherwise.” _Snap, snap, snap._

The Jedi sighed and reluctantly wormed his way out of his blanket burrito to let the medic examine him.

“We’ve successfully isolated what’s causing this, sir,” Helix said, taking his vitals and checking them against his baseline, “It’s not actually a drug at all - some kind of bacterium, nothing the Republic has ever encountered before.”

“Is it contagious?” _Fuck, fuck, fuck, he and the clones had been having unprotected sex for_ hours _, exchanging bodily fluids without thought for the consequences-_

“Depends on how you define _contagious_ , sir,” the medic answered, noting his vitals down in his file before prepping his arm for the nutrient shots, “It seems to feed off Force energy for the most part, but the rest of us don’t have enough power to be a viable food source; it starves pretty fast away from you. But one of its by-products seems to be testosterone, among others, hence the drastic increase in sex drive.”

“So - Force blockers until it’s dead?” He hated the damned things and was sure most other Force-users did as well, save for those who actively wanted to distance themselves from their abilities. It felt like he was walking around half-blind or deaf; he could compensate to some degree, but he wouldn’t be fighting any battles until it was done.

“Already tried it in the lab.” Helix put the empty shots back in this case and took up the container of bacta. “They only block your ability to _use_ the Force, not the Force itself, so you’d just be miserable in addition to strung out. Bones and Sixer are working on synthesizing antigens now.”

Obi-Wan choked back a gasp when the medic began treating his “injuries” by carefully smoothing bacta over his lips, then pushing more into his mouth for his throat. Jango Fett must have been at least a little bitey, because several of his clones certainly enjoyed using their teeth, leaving his lips bitten red and his body a tapestry of marks from their mouths. From his lips the medic moved to his neck - where he notably only put the lightest coat on the bite Cody had left, just enough to make it close up but still leave a scar, a mark of possession - and shoulders, smoothing cream over the nail marks left by the clones who had decided they wanted to be _under_ their General rather than _over_.

From there he moved on to leave a thick smear of the healing cream over each nipple, left red and puffy and hypersensitive from all of the attention the clones had been giving them, rubbing and licking and sucking and biting the whole time. Obi-Wan shuddered at the touch, and kept shivering as Helix continued down his body, leaving a film of bacta everywhere he found a bruise from his fellow clones’ hands and teeth, a friction burn from the standard-issue GAR sheets.

His hands went everywhere but where Obi-Wan wanted them most, bypassing his cock and balls and hole in favor of treating the finger bruises on his hips from where the clones had gripped too tight, the abrasions on his knees from where he’d been turned onto his stomach with his hips in the air, the handprints around his calves from when Baxter had folded him almost in half, ankles by his ears, to let Tank drill into him.

Only when the rest of him was treated do Helix move back up. He said something in Mando’a that the Jedi didn’t catch, and then there were other hands on him again, carefully lifting his hips and pulling his legs apart, parting his cheeks for the medic’s inspection.

Helix tutted softly. Obi-Wan had been fucked enough times, bodies slapping together with rough thrusts and skin dripping in sweat, that his ass was bright red as if he’d been spanked; his skin tingled when the bacta made contact. His hole was even redder, flushed and swollen, still loose from all the sex and still slowly leaking cum despite the _vod’e_ ’s best efforts at cleaning him up.

The Jedi threw his head back with a choked cry when Helix coated his fingers in the thickest layer of bacta yet, then started working them inside him. The touch only _seemed_ clinical; the medic carefully stroked his walls to coat them with the cream, but the pointed, harder presses to his prostate - when it was found - left no doubt. He tried to thrust down onto the medic’s hand, or even just grind, but the other _vod’e_ held him fast and, like the _asshole_ he was, Helix made no attempt to get him off by fingering him, just moved to make sure the bacta coated as much of his walls as could be reached.

Yet apparently the medic judged it wasn’t enough, because he turned and called in Mando’a again.

Cody emerged from the gathering, still naked and glorious. At Helix’s instruction, he jerked himself to full hardness (not that it took that long, or was at all hard to do with Obi-Wan spread out in front of him like a feast for a starving man). Then he lubed up with a thick layer of bacta, so thick he was almost dripping with it, and pushed into the Jedi with barely any effort at all.

The bacta was helping him tighten up again - he could feel it, almost as if Cody’s cock was getting bigger inside of him - and the thought briefly flitted through his head that maybe it would heal him in this position, make it so he was always open and ready for a tumble with his Commander or their men. But that was very much a thought a Jedi should not have, so he pushed it aside as quickly as he could (and firmly denied that he would be taking it back out later for examination and elaboration into a fantasy for cold and lonely nights).

He choked on another shout when Helix curled a bacta-covered hand around his balls and squeezed - not hard enough to hurt, but decidedly not gentle either. The barest edge of pain to enhance the pleasure, making it sing through his body. Obi-Wan continued gasping as Helix - there was no other word for it - _fondled_ him, rolling his balls between his fingers with the occasional squeeze or tug out of sync with Cody’s thrusts.

Then Helix’s hand retreated, only to return with a fresh coat of bacta to grip his chafed cock.

There was no muffling his shout then. All the _vod’e_ leaned in eagerly to watch him come undone, trying to buck up into the warm, slick grip or thrust down onto the hot cock inside him. Yet for all their differences, almost all the clones were the same kind of _bastard_ , all the ones restraining him holding him fast and both Helix and Cody refusing to let him set the pace. If he cursed them for it or begged, the Jedi didn't hear it, too caught up in the tingling of the bacta being slicked over his cock, being driven further inside of him with every thrust-

Coming was almost painful. It had been hours since he’d run dry, about when he started blacking out for increasing lengths of time, but apparently he’d recovered enough for a few drops of cum to mix with the bacta on his stomach.

He held onto consciousness by the barest thread, and _this_ time he felt Cody come inside him in a hot rush, marking up his insides with his brothers.

(Another very un-Jedi-like thought followed on the heels of his Commander’s climax - could all the _vod’e_ fuck him enough for there to be a visible sign of it? A curve in his abdomen from where his guts were stuffed full of their cum?)

He whined through his teeth, and another drop of white fell free as he jerked in the _vod’e_ ’s grip, eyes rolling back in his head.

Helix withdrew his hand, but Cody stayed buried inside him until he softened completely. Only then did he pull out and move aside to let Obi-Wan see the medic packing up, pulling off his gloves with further rubbery snaps and thoroughly ignoring the erection tenting his uniform. “Helix,” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Not right now, General,” the clone replied, putting the empty nutrient vials in his case for decontamination and reuse. Then he looked up and met the Jedi’s gaze, eyes dark and full of lust. A hungry smile pulled his lips up. “But you better believe I will be fucking your mouth while Bones and Sixer pound your ass when the antigens are ready.”

 _Fuck._ He could see it already in the medic’s mind, Bones on his back under him, Sixer behind, both of them straddling Bones’s thighs with Obi-Wan’s ass stretched wide around the clones’ cocks, and Helix on his knees in front of him, legs spread to allow room for Bones under him without compromising his balance, hand fisted in the Jedi’s hair as he guided his mouth onto his cock.

Obi-Wan’s head fell back, a moan echoing through the rec room.

* * *

By the time the medical team finished synthesizing the antigens, Obi-Wan had had his latest fantasy fulfilled, though it wasn’t as pronounced as he’d half-hoped it would be. The 212th had fucked him so many times that he _was_ stuffed full of their cum, felt the weight of the thick fluid shift inside him every time he was repositioned with a new clone between his legs, felt it roll like a wave with every thrust. The bulge was almost invisible to the eye, but it could definitely be _felt_ ; when he touched the skin of his abdomen, it was distinctly tight, stretched, with a slight curve to it that was most visible when he was on his hands and knees, gravity pulling it down into sight.

The clones cursed one and all when they finally noticed, and from that moment on he never went more than a few seconds without a hand or several feeling up his stomach.

He was on his side when the medics arrived with the antigens, his leg hooked up over Gearshift’s arm to open him up, his eyes half-closed and arm folded under the pillow supporting his head, cock limp but twitching hard and leaking precum between his legs. The clone was rocking into him, more of a grind than a thrust, drawing out their pleasure. The Jedi didn’t know how long it had been since the - orgy? gangbang? - had started, only that Helix had come to see him twice more (that he knew of) with the same hungry promise in his eyes, and the medic had recommended drawing the sex out in an attempt to get his body to break down as much of the sex pollen’s by-products as possible in one round. It had been effective enough that Obi-Wan had actually been able to get almost six hours of sleep before needing to be put on his stomach and fucked again.

(His loyal commander had done the honors again, given that most of the others had been asleep; Obi-Wan had woken near two in the morning ship time, and reached out with the Force to search for a _vod_ awake nearby, wordlessly begging. Cody had been reviewing reports - the ship didn't stop functioning just because the clones were pounding their Jedi general one after the other - but he’d set aside his data pad in a heartbeat in favor of rolling said Jedi over and sinking his cock into his loose, wet hole.)

This time it was Sixer who took his vitals, signaling for Gearshift to keep his pace slow and steady while he did so. Obi-Wan made an effort to keep his breathing even as well, to filter out as much variation as possible and give the medics a true gauge of his health - which probably wasn’t great, given how much energy he’d been burning versus taking in and the strain he’d been putting on his body.

He didn't need to have his eyes fully open to know that Sixer was frowning. “Status?”

“Looks like we got done just in time,” the medic replied, pressing the straw of a hydropack to his lips, “You’re pretty dehydrated, sir, among other things, and I don't need to do your bloodwork again to know your cortisol levels are _severely_ elevated. Any longer and we probably would have had to sedate you anyway.”

“I had faith in your skills.”

“A likely story,” Bones grunted, pressing another hydropack to his lips when he finished the first, “You were too busy getting fucked, sir.”

“Are those things _truly_ mutually exclusive, Bones?”

“Hm.”

Gearshift sped up, proper thrusts now, with the accompanying slap of skin on damp skin. Obi-Wan shivered a little and tightened up as best he could, clamping down on the other’s cock, and the clone groaned behind him, cursing in Mando’a, hips jerking sharply before stilling as he came. After a minute or so he eased out and helped Obi-Wan shift on top of Bones, who laid down next to him for that exact reason.

The medic examined his thoroughly-marked up torso. “Seems like you’ve been having a good time, General.”

The Jedi leaned forward enough to press their foreheads together. “Yes indeed - much better than the war, not that that’s a high bar to reach.”

Sixer guided Bones’s cock into him, and he sat back with a sigh, taking him in easily. He was so loose from all the previous rounds that Sixer barely needed to stretch him at all before sliding in next to his brother, both of them groaning at the heat of him. “ _Haar’chak_ ,” one of them growled, “Been thinking about this for the past three days. _Fuck_ , sir.”

He clenched around them, earning a fresh round of moans, before Helix tilted his head up, the tip of his hard cock nudging at his lips. Obi-Wan opened his mouth and took him to the base without hesitation, burying his nose in rough hair, and Helix swore a truly impressive blue streak before grabbing one of the Jedi’s arms. Despite being buried balls-deep in his superior’s mouth, the medic’s hands were perfectly steady as he tied off a tourniquet on said arm, injected the Jedi with the necessary antigens to force his immune system to attack the invading bacterium, and then dabbed bacta on the needle mark left behind before wrapping the wound in a light bandage. Only then did he toss aside his gear and strip off his gloves in favor of cradling Obi-Wan’s face and slowly thrusting.

The Jedi let his eyes drift shut. The antigens were already starting their work, and his immune system with them; he could feel them through the Force, kicking into high gear - but more than that, he could feel the rising pleasure of the three medics, their frustration at both having to deal with the bacterium and missing the bulk of the action melting away with every thrust. Bones was lying mostly still under him, unmoving save involuntary jerks of his hips, but both he and Sixer had their hands on Obi-Wan’s hips, helping him ride them with the added benefit of bobbing his head on Helix’s cock with minimal effort on his part. His own cock was twitching futilely one Bones’s stomach, dripping, but he ignored it in favor of tightening again around Bones and Sixer, sucking almost teasingly on Helix and tracing the vein with his tongue on every roll.

All three of them swore, and Helix growled. “ _General_ …”

Obi-Wan smirked as best he could around the clone’s cock, and his smirk only widened when Helix changed his grip, one hand firm on his jaw, the other tight in the hair at the base of his skull.

The thrusts were _just_ right, enough to threaten choking without tipping over the edge into actually doing it. The Jedi loosened his jaw and relaxed into it with a groan, just letting the medics use him; after what was apparently three days of near-round-the-clock sex with an entire battalion of attractive men, he was almost completely spent.

Almost.

He was already so wrung out that Obi-Wan barely noticed when he came again - but Bones and Sixer did, his body squeezing them tight and walls rippling around them, yanking their own orgasms out of them. Helix wasn't far behind, pulling back to come hard and heavy over the Jedi’s face, earning sharp groans from both him and the other _vod’e_ watching. Then Obi-Wan licked his lips as the cum dripped down over his skin, catching a few drops on his tongue, and more groans and curses followed, coupled with sharp bursts of pleasure like solar flares in the Force as some of the _vod’e_ came one last time together with their brothers.

Then there were hands on him - hands he would know blind, drunk, utterly unconscious, effortly picking them out from six million identical pairs. Cody helped Bones and Sixer ease him off their cocks, and Obi-Wan let himself relax into his commander’s arms, weariness finally overtaking the need to fuck and be fucked. If the medics gave their _vod_ instructions regarding his care, he didn’t hear it - only felt other hands on his skin, tender, appreciative strokes from the other _vod’e_ as he was carried from the barracks, murmurs of praise and devotion in a dozen tongues but especially Mando’a following Cody’s passage through the halls of the _Negotiator_.

It felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d actually been in his rooms, but everything was as he’d left it, right down to his robes strewn in a line across the floor to the sonic - which was apparently where Cody was carrying him. His commander set him on his feet but still took most of his weight, attention elsewhere for a moment as he fiddled with the shower controls. Obi-Wan leaned back against Cody’s chest and let his eyes slip shut…

His body was heating up again, this time with fever as his immune system prepared to fight the bacterium, but even so he felt the _vod’e_ ’s cum start to drip out of him, running in sluggish rivulets down his thighs… and, despite all the abuse it had suffered over the past several days, his cock twitched, started to swell. “Cody.”

The clone noticed. “ _General_.”

If he was trying for stern refusal, he _really_ needed some target practice. Obi-Wan let his head fall back onto Cody’s shoulder anyway. “I think… I’ve got one more in me,” he said, “and I think you do too.”

The commander buried his face in the general’s neck and murmured something in Mando’a which he was pretty sure translated to _beautiful, insatiable Jedi_. Then he pulled Obi-Wan’s cheeks apart and found his leaking hole, jerked himself a few times to make his cock stiffen up before pushing inside.

The Jedi sighed at being filled again and shifted his stance, pushed his chest forward and lifted his heels to give the clone a better angle, in the process surrendering any control over the pace or intensity. Fortunately, Cody wasn't in the mood to tease or draw it out, bracing himself against the wall, gripping the general’s hips, and setting a hard pace right out of the gate. The angle was just right to drive Cody’s cock hard over his prostate with every pass, sending lightning bolts of bliss up his spine.

Obi-Wan cursed in Mando’a, and Cody laughed quietly behind him, his pleasure and amusement rippling through the Force. The Jedi clamped down around him, using the Force to add extra pressure, and then it was Cody’s turn to curse. Then he growled and yanked Obi-Wan close again so they were back to chest, keeping him pinned with an arm across his chest while his other hand dropped to the general’s cock.

His commander jerking him off was the most pleasurable pain; he was hypersensitive, chafed from long hours of hands and holes even with several applications of bacta, but Cody stroked him just right, rubbed the head and teased his balls to overwhelm the ache and send him spiralling higher, all the while thrusting hard. “Cody, yes, fuck - please - !”

His climax slammed into him like a bombardment from the _Negotiator_ , and he held onto consciousness by the tips of his fingers, wanting -

Cody was right behind him, coming with a low groan of the Jedi’s name, the arm across his chest briefly going tight enough that Obi-Wan heard his ribs creak. They slumped against the side of the shower and stayed there until the clone’s soft cock slipped out of the Jedi with a wet sound that made them both shiver.

Only then did Cody finally jab the button to turn on the shower - not the sonic this time, just pure water pouring down over them. Obi-Wan’s hands shook too much to wash himself, so he let Cody do it, gritting his teeth on an unhappy whine when his commander had to clean out his insides as well to stop him from leaking cum all over his bed.

“Stay with us, sir.”

The Jedi rolled his head, turned enough to glimpse Cody out of the corner of his eye, reading him through the Force - “You picked up on that, too?”

“You were projecting quite loudly, sir. I talked with the others while you were indisposed.” Obi-Wan struggled not to snort at the wording, while Cody forged ahead without so much as a blink. “When the war is over, please, stay with us. Or let us keep following you. Whatever you need.”

Memories of Satine flashed through Obi-Wan’s mind. Both of them had loved each other but been bound by duty and suffered for it, and Satine herself had paid the ultimate price. His arms still remembered the weight of her body after Maul had cut her down before his eyes.

_Not again. Duty over love has brought so much pain… what will love over duty bring?_

“We can try.” He turned in the clone’s arms and kissed him softly, then pressed their foreheads together. “When this war is finally over, we can try.”


	2. until someday comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Video for this chapter's song is at the bottom. Same for the next chapter.

So. That was it, then. It was over.

_Told me I shouldn't watch  
Got in your car, then we were nothing  
All the nights in your room, shit we got through  
Left in your dust, yeah_

Obi-Wan trudged up the empty house - more of a shack, really - that was to be his new home while watching over Luke on Tatooine… for however long it took.

Regardless of whatever _it_ was.

Despite the heat of the desert during the day, the suns were setting, the air growing cold. His first few days, weeks - kriff, maybe even _months_ \- in the house were going to be fraught with discomfort. It had been empty a long time, and needed a lot of work to fix up and make it habitable. Obi-Wan briefly longed for the sure, steady hands of his battalion - but no. They were out of his reach, if he’d ever even had them at all.

_Don't know what you got, but I thought we had it  
Now I'm supposed to act like it doesn't matter  
But I'm writing it down, getting it out  
Here's to me hoping_

He’d only had a few seconds’ warning. Even before the 212th had arrived on Utapau, they had been planning a celebration for the Separatist defeat - a celebration that involved the _vod’e_ remaking their nest in the main rec room and keeping their general there for the entirety of the hyperspace jump back to Coruscant. Obi-Wan had been just as eager as the clones - he’d only taken a few of them to bed since their bacterium-induced free-for-all - and had looked forward to ending this pointless war once and for all.

Grievous had gone down - he’d had to use a kriffing _blaster_ of all things - and after Obi-Wan had given the order to move up and clear out the rest of the droids, he’d jumped on Boga to do the same. Cody had stepped away to answer a comm call…

The blankness had rippled through the Force, all of the clones’ unique signatures dropping sharply away to nothing, to living droids - and the Force had _screamed_ in warning at the utter _wrongness_ of it -

And then he’d been falling.

_Someday I'll come home  
And feel like no one's even gone  
Play this at my shows  
And know that I've been moving on  
Someday I'll go to bed and I'll forget  
I'm lyin' in your spot  
But until someday comes  
I'll be writing sad songs_

_(I’ll be writing sad songs)_

It was only later that he learned.

The chips to overwrite the clones’ minds.

Chancellor Palpatine and Darth Sidious were one and the same.

Anakin, and Mustafar, and the cooked-meat and scorched-hair scent of his Fallen padawan _burning_ on the bank of the river of lava, and Padmé’s body failing from grief over what her husband had done, leaving two newborn children alone in the world save for two outlaw Jedi and a Senator precariously perched...

Nightmare after nightmare.

Ending, and yet only just beginning.

And now the house was cold and empty. It should have been warm and full of life - and when he opened the door and stepped inside, he saw it as it should have been with his waking eyes.

_Wish that there was a way I could have saved  
One little moment, yeah  
Pull it out when I can’t handle the pain  
Of knowing it's over_

Anakin and Padmé and Ahsoka were over in the kitchen, Anakin with a panicked grimace on his face while Leia cried in his arms. Ahsoka was laughing at him while Padmé tried to help her husband with Luke in her own arms, trying and failing to hide her own smile. Rex was at his general’s shoulder, leaning back against the counters with his arms crossed over his chest, finally wearing the commander’s bars he deserved, but he was smiling at Ahsoka like all was right with the world - like everything that had gone so wrong from the very beginning had finally been set right.

Crys, Waxer, and Boil were criticizing the size and state of the house along with a number of their brothers, already laying out both surface and subterranean expansions to turn the tiny house into a full complex to accommodate all the _vod’e_ and everything they would need - barracks, rec rooms, practice rooms, gun ranges, plus more pedestrian things like storage, water tanks, and grow rooms for food. Helix was shouting over them, demanding a full-size medical ward under no uncertain terms, swearing up and down that he would _quit_ if he got anything less, so help him _Maker_!

Gearshift, Trapper, Blaze, and some of the other mechanically-minded clones had already begun work, taking apart a… well, Obi-Wan wasn't sure what it had been, but they were turning it into an earthmover to start digging, with still others repurposing equipment to run ground scans to determine where it was safe to dig, cutting lines into the packed floor and measuring durasteel for subterranean ceiling supports.

They were planning to _dig in_ , to stay and make this place into a home.

Obi-Wan wove through the bodies to the bedroom, dodging a few _vod’e_ throwing sand at each other even as their sergeant barked out curses, and piles of other _vod’e_ sleeping in corners, finally _safe_ now that the war had ended, and Bly and Secura curled close in the hall, the clone murmuring sweet nothings against her _lekku_.

Satine was standing next to a luxurious bed, Cody helping her shrug into light and light-colored clothing more appropriate for Tatootine than the heavy garb of Mandalore. The clone himself was already similarly attired, no doubt trying to set an example for his men in their new environment, and while Satine finished doing up the ties of her cream-colored robes, Cody effortlessly twisted her hair into a simple but classic, elegant style before covering her with a headscarf to protect her from the driving suns.

Only when they were both appropriately dressed did they refocus on their environment, then notice and turn to him. Satine smiled indulgently, and Cody resisted rolling his eyes but conveyed the sentiment through the Force nonetheless. “Come, my dear,” the duchess said, holding out a hand, “Let’s get you dressed as well. You’re already closer than the rest of us, but you’ll die of heatstroke in those dark things.”

Cody held out a hand as well, and Obi-Wan reached for them both-

Gone.

_I was so intact on the night I met you  
Now I'm making sad songs inside my bedroom  
But I'm writing it down, getting it out  
Here's to me hoping_

The house was cold, and dark, and empty.

Obi-Wan staggered back. The air was suddenly stifling, the walls closing in around him-

His robe slipped from his shoulders as he bolted, but this time it would lay where it had fallen until he himself retrieved it, and that sent a fresh wave of grief rolling through him to tighten around his chest like a vise.

He staggered out of the house and into the fading light of twin suns, and fell to his knees in the sand. Gone - gone - everyone was gone - the Order had been destroyed - his friends, his family - and his _cyare’se_ had been stolen away by the slave chips in their heads, implanted by a Sith who played them all from the very beginning, or by the blade of another Sith who had done it purely to make him suffer. He was utterly alone on this world of baked stone and sand, no one who knew him save for two half-strangers and a newborn child.

Obi-Wan didn't know when he had begun to sob, but the tears poured down his face and soaked into his robes and the sand below, the only rain this planet would ever know. He couldn’t - he couldn't be a good Jedi with this, there was no releasing feelings of this magnitude into the Force, not if he wanted to stay hidden, to keep Luke safe.

He threw back his head and screamed his rage and grief to the stars.

_Someday I'll come home  
And feel like no one's even gone  
Play this at my shows  
And know that I've been moving on  
Someday I'll go to bed and I'll forget  
I'm lyin' in your spot  
But until someday comes  
I'll be writing sad songs..._


	3. when you're tired of the dark night

Obi-Wan almost couldn't believe it. Even if he hadn't actually _lived_ to see it, he had still _existed_ long enough to see the end of the Empire, of Sidious, and - _impossibly_ \- the return of his padawan to the light, called back by the love of his son. When Luke turned back to the Alliance’s celebration, drawn away by his sister, he returned to the Force, Yoda and Anakin close behind.

_On the road through the dark night  
You're on your own with no one to hear you  
Going fast but it's alright  
You're on your own with nothing to hold you back_

Maybe it was just how he perceived it, or maybe there was something more to it - maybe stories of afterlives weren't just imagination - but when his “vision” cleared, he was standing once more on a shore of pure white sand, waves crashing around his ankles, the beach eventually giving way to green grass more vivid than anything he’d ever seen in life. Beyond that was a forest as bright as the grass, leaves glittering like jewels in the clear light even though nothing could be seen through the dense trunks.

Qui-Gon was waiting for them in the shade at the treeline, and when he finally saw them, he smiled with more genuine joy and warmth than Obi-Wan had ever seen. He embraced them one by one, and Anakin received the fiercest hug of them all, which he returned just as tight, gemstone tears almost glowing on his lashes.

And then Qui-Gon stepped aside, and Anakin’s eyes widened before he fell hard to his knees with his head bowed, shoulders shaking in grief. Padmé was kneeling in front of him only a moment later, her arms around him and their heads pressed together. Obi-Wan didn’t hear what she said, but he felt it through the Force anyway - sorrow and forgiveness and bottomless love and joy.

_And now you driven past the red light  
Behind your shades all the colours seem faded  
And now you're moving at the speed of light  
I'll lead you home tonight_

Slowly, so slowly that it seemed to take a thousand years, Anakin lifted his arms to return her embrace, holding his beloved wife close and wetting the neck of her dress with a rain of diamonds.

A hand landed on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He turned, and Qui-Gon inclined his head.

A path opened up between the trees. The canopy was thick, and the path was dark - no light reached the ground between the jewel-bright leaves - but even as the Jedi watched, flowers began blossoming along the path, glowing pink and blue and orange, and vines strung through the trees put out golden flowers of their own, showing the way.

Obi-Wan looked back - but the others were already gone, following their own paths through the trees.

Nothing for it, then.

He started down his own path.

_When you're tired of the dark nights  
And need someone to hold  
I'll be your fire in the cold rain  
I'm never gonna let you go  
I'm never gonna let you go_

Even with the glowing flowers, it was incredibly dark in the forest, darker than a moonless night - but the path was straight and smooth, and there was no malice anywhere he could sense, just peace, both from the trees themselves and the strange and also glowing animals that sometimes ran, bounded, and skittered across the path.

He didn't know how long he walked - there was no way to gauge the time that had passed, save that his legs were no more tired than when he started - but the forest ended suddenly as if cut by a knife. He stood blinking in the evening light, the sunless sky starting to fade to a starlit night, and the vista that lay before him resolved itself into a small city on a plain.

A city with very familiar architecture.

_No. Not a city. The Jedi Temple._

The path under his feet stretched towards it, turning to swirling pavers, but he barely noticed, more focused on the figures he could see moving within the temple.

It couldn't be.

But it _was_.

His robe slipped from his shoulders for the last time as he started to run, picking up speed and _sprinting_ for the temple and the people within-

The people with the same face, armored in black and white and 212th gold.

_When you're tired of the dark nights  
And need someone to hold  
I'll be your fire in the cold rain  
I'm never gonna let you go  
I'm never gonna let you go  
I'm never gonna let you go_

_“Waxer! Boil! Trapper, Longshot!”_

He was still some distance away, but they heard him anyway and turned, eyes going wide and mouths falling open. Then they were sprinting for him, too, and suddenly there was no distance between them at all. Their bodies all slammed together, but there was no pain, only overwhelming joy and love and welcoming, hands fisted in his robes, grabbing onto his arms to hold him close and never let him go. They pulled him into the temple complex, others noticing his arrival and racing over from where they’d been chatting, playing, relaxing, _living_ to pull him into joyous hugs and burning kisses. More people called greetings and welcomes and the 212th wasn't alone, there was 501st blue and 327th yellow and Masters Secura and Ploon, Wolffe at his side, and Master Windu and-

Heads turned. Smiles widened into gleeful grins. The crowd parted.

Obi-Wan’s breath left him all at once.

_When you're tired of the dark nights  
And need someone to hold  
I'll be your fire in the cold rain  
I'm never gonna let you go_

_I'm never gonna let you go  
(On the road through the dark night)_

Satine’s shoulders loosened at the sight of him, tears gathering in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks even as a wide smile pulled her lips up. Cody was at her side, breathing hard and eyes glassy, visibly trying to restrain himself from yanking Obi-Wan into his arms and never letting him go.

They all reached for each other, and pressed their foreheads together as the clones and Jedi around them cheered. The unseen sun had set, leaving the sky awash with stars and a brilliant rainbow aurora rippling across the sky, and Obi-Wan saw the light of it all reflected in his lovers’ eyes and hoped they saw the same.

Satine was the first to step back, and then Cody. They took his hands, and this time they did _not_ disappear.

He followed them into the temple, the rest of the 212th _vod’e_ close behind.

_And now you driven past the red light  
Behind your shades all the colours seem faded  
And now you're moving at the speed of light  
I'll lead you home tonight_

_I'm never gonna let you go_

_I'm never gonna let you go..._


End file.
